Resident Evil: Abyss
by 00Biohazard
Summary: The BSAA faces the biggest threat in its history as a mysterious scientist with connections in the deepest political circles threatens to ensue the world in the flames of hell by releasing a dangerous neuro- toxin emitted by a new B.O.W.


RESIDENT EVIL: ABYSS  
By Carlos Alegría

PROLOGUE  
Frederick Duvall sat in his office, analyzing the urgent paper work which had just arrived to him an hour previous. He leaned back, fixed his glasses, and stood up to reach his expensive single malt whiskey, that he had conveniently hidden in a drawer cabinet from a nearby desk. The office was large, with two other desks inside, one, believed to be owned by president Balmaceda of Chile, whom he had a personal admiration for due to his mothers south American heritage, and the other battered old desk, an heirloom, that being the one he was using when he had been notified of his promotion to head of EBCU branch in the BSAA.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and drank it all in one swift motion. He returned to his desk and buried his face in his hands. He had just received intelligence from MI-6 and the CIA of weapons deals involving professors of the most prestigious universities of Hungary and Turkey. Istambul had been one of the greatest sources of peril in the recent months, since much of the aftermath of Tricells African experiments, including its research and equipment, went missing after numerous mercenary groups ventured into the infested wastleands of Kijuju and managed to steal most of it and ship it to unknown buyers. It had been later revealed that Canberk Sabri, one of Europes most dangerous and influential mobsters had been selling tricells secrets to an unknown buyer in the phillipines. Frederick poured himself another glass of scotch. Dammit, was that a month to be head of the EBCU. There had been many killings and high profile situations, to the point of one EBCU agent accidentally shooting an arab emirates senate member because of suspicion during a bioterror weapons deal.

The EBCU had been forced to become a secret organization because of it, and Frederick had almost lost his job. They had located most of the research and B. which belonged to the pharmaceutical giant and destroyed most of the scientific equipment which had been designed uniquely by Tricell to keep their B. in optimal condition. He thought he had completed his work as the coordinator in the shadows, and Frederick was calm for a time, until these stacks of paper had hit his desk. Something very complicated was about to happen. The men that were in these papers had no criminal files whatsoever, no links to any terrorists organizations, nor were they part of any radical ideology. Inside his gut he felt the similar feeling, the feeling he had when he was commissioned to assess the Terragrigia incident, the same feeling he had when he led a troop of marines against B. fighting general Grande in Africa, the same, discontent, anxiousness. The same fear. Frederick Duvall read the reports meticulously, and came to a most dangerous conclusion. I don't know what to do.

Manhattan was bustling that night. Times square was its general full self, people walked with the glee only a Saturday night in the most important city of the world could give you. Anything was possible. There were several trucks parked around the area that night, which seemed odd to many police officers around the busy sector. Was there a permit for that?theyre using up street!after all, manhattan isn't know for being an underpopulated place. A man was sitting in one of the trucks, contemplating the lights of the city. Suddendly, the man saw a fat police officer with a bushy beard and a general bad look in his eye approach the truck. The policeman knocked on the door. ´Step out of your vehicle sir´. The man looked at him, and smiled. ´Of course officer´. He opened the door and got out of the truck.

His height was intimidating, as he stood at least two meters high. His electric green eyes, white skin, and square jaw, and by the way the man spoke, led the police officer to assume he was Russian. ´Damn Ruskies, what do I look like a comedian to you?wipe that dumb grin off your faceand show me some ID ´. The man wore a long brown trench coat and proceeded to move forward disregarding anything the policeman would tell him.

Bystanders began to stare at what was going on, since the fat police man had pulled out his weapon and pointed it directly at the mans chest. ´Make sure you get transport here quick, this may get messy´, said the tall man, in a unemotional tone. He was speaking to no one apparently. ´Fuckin weirdo. Stay back Ivan the terrible, or yous ell get a bullet in the heart, I aint jokin!´. Two other police officers had now arrived at the truck, all pointing weapons at the blonde man. ´I was not talking to you old man.´Then, It all happened in a split second. Three black vans drove past crashing into multiple cars n the way, and shot the police men with AK47s.

The bullets sounded like harsh little explosions as the blood jumped and splashed three bystanders. The women began to scream and nearby police began shooting and calling for back up. The blonde man got into one of the vans, and suddenly, the buses all seemed to turn on at the same time, each one containig a small militia of men who began shooting at everyone in Times square. All the trucks drove and all the men shot at any police cruiser that would follow.

The adrenaline in the blonde mans system was at an all time high as he recklessly drove through central park and reached the street. ´How long till we reach the museum of natural history?´, asked The tall man. The criminals all wore gas masks.´ Probably 20 minutes sir´, the grunt responded. ´Good. When we arrive, release the regenerators on the perimeters. Triple check to see if Gregor has made contact with Paris, Prague, Cairo, and Tokyo. Los Angeles and New Jersey have already been activated.´ ´Yes sir´.

The men pulled up in front of the museum of natural history, and the anti terror government alert protocol had seemingly already been activated. They were welcomed with gun fire from a huge squad of police, military, and even aircraft.´You know what to do Mikhail. Clear the path, no one lives.´ The man took off his gas mask to reveal a disfigured grey face. Parts of his face were torn and rotting, his eyes bloodshot red, and his veins were visible throughout his entire facial structure. A torn raspy voice responded. ´Of course sir.' The tall blonde man got out of the van, and smiled as he began to take fire. ´It has begun.´

TEMPES WOODS, HUNGARY, 2012

Deep inside the gothic chambers of what once was a proud monument of christian soverignty, Dr. Hans Mikel walked down the cramped hallways. He held his bible in his hands and continued to head downwards, into more and more spirals of descending cold stone steps. He felt the souls of the crying Ottoman prisoners from centuries ago bellow in agony around him. It tormented him inside, he felt he was responsable for keeping the world dark and rotting. But it did not matter. He had perfected his creation, and held it away from the greedy modern companies for so long. It was finally his time. Downwards and downwards, with a torch in hand he continued to descend. He reached a large wooden door, with the face of a wretched fallen angel, a demon, as a door knob. Dr. Hans suffered knowing that his destiny was to become what he hated, and feared. But it was gods plan. He opened the door and entered the dungeon. It was a laboratory facility. The rotting stench of corpses and other rotting organic materials flooded the room. Why?why must this happen? then, a thought appeared in his head.

Because the prophecy must be fufilled. The lord has given you the honor of being the smighted. But it must be your burden to bare, the responsability of killing your fellow man. Dr. Hans reassured himself. He looked around his laboratory and found most of his equipment had been updated. His colleagues were true believers. The CIA had played its part. Delivering false intelligence,keeping his plans silent and keeping his most powerful allies in government active. It had taken years of planning, years biding time, of creating, of herecy. But he had done it. He had perfected it. His spawn, his child would be the one to render this world to his feet. He would be the swift hand of god, and the spear of Satan. Tricells research was his, he was MIA as far as the any government was concerned, and his creation was safe, safe within heavy, ancient walls of Gyerdek Ordog castle. Everything was going according to plan. With Spencer dead, and the scum that was the shaded killer burning in the pits of hell, he was safe. His creation was safe. And so was the lords plan for the world. Armageddon. Soon, everything would perish into an oblivion of flames and despair. And god would thank him, and smight him with mercy. Everything would burn. Everything.

CHAPTER ONE  
NEW ASSIGNMENT

´51, 52, 53´. An exhausted man finished his set of crunches, unable to do anymore. He had left a large glass of milk ready for when he would finish his workout. He was blessed with a good metabolism, and his body didnt retain as much fat as your regular american would. The man was Chris Redfield. After gulping down the milk, Chris walked over to the bathroom and dried himself off. Sweat was casting down from his temples, and he felt uncomfortable as the warm fluid trickled down his face and onto his body. He looked at himself in the mirror, and began to take notice of the scars. on his right shoulder, his chest, and a large set of vertical scars on his back. His gaze continued in the mirror. He saw an impenetrable look of determination stare back at him, with two blue eyes. His three day stubble and military crew cut made him look even older than he was. his slightly large ears also had battle scars, both of them with with miniature ones, but scars nevertheless. In his trade any situation could become potentially life threatening, prompting Chris to always be on constant vigilance. ´Mr. Redfield!Mr. Redfield!', exclaimed the voice of an old woman, as she knocked almost crazily on the door. ´Dammit, not thisold bat again.´ Chris answered the door. A small, grey haired woman with a stern and unpleasant face and a hideous purple cardigan stood waiting for Chris to explain himslf. ´Would you at least have the decency to put a shirt on mr. Redfield!if you will not respect your neighbours at least respect me while im in your presence!´, cried the old woman, clearly apalled by Chris´s nude torso. Alright, hold on a sec´.

Chris returned with an old white T shirt. ´Whats the problem ?´. Chris knew what the problem was. ´Mr. Redfield, as you are very well aware, I have a difficult time getting to sleep. Your constant screams and insane wailing could awake the whole building!im surprised they havent!´.´Listen, mrs. Wodlinger, I know its tough, the doctor gave me these weird pills, ill take them and theyre supposed to end my night terrors. Ill stop screaming, I assure you.´ ´I dont believe that anymore Mr. Redfield. Twice now youve told me that these incessant bellows would stop, and they havent!the next time I hear you at night mr. Redfield, I will have you evicted out of my building. Do you understand?´. Chris swallowed his pride. ´Yes mrs. Wodlinger. It wont happen again. Im sorry´. The woman left and enterd her apartment two doors down the hall. ´Bitch´. Its a good thing his sister wasnt there, he thought, she wouldve given mrs. Wodlinger a piece of her mind, and wouldve probably had Chris evicted that afternoon. He missed her, but he wouldnt admit it. Chris returned to the bathroom, turned the water until it was icey cold, and began to take a shower. As the water sprinkled onto his exhausted body, he closed his eyes, to think of life, what he was doing, where would he go from here.

He was in an experimental facility. Water all over. He walked silently, to avoid detection. He felt the beast lurking, but his legs were still in the water. His heart was pumping. He looked at the blood in the water, over where it had happened. His friend. His comrade, Richard. Oh god... Chris screamed. The shower curtain was down, he hit his head on the wall of the shower, and the blood fell onto the floor, swirling into the drain. ´FUUUCK!', Chris screamed. He was on his knees in the shower. Something was wrong. He needed the pills. He needed someone. Claire. He needed Claire. He managed to stand up and dry himself off, the memories of Richards dimembered body still fresh in his mind. He put on a black dress shirt, dark blue jeans, and dark boots. He sat on his couch, whisky in hand. He picked up his cell phone, and called his baby sister, the one woman he could always count on. He had made a vow to himself not to call her unless it was absolutley necessary, but Chris was afraid what he would do if he was left alone. He drank the whiskey and dialed the number. Voicemail. Then Chris realized how pathetic he was. He had to rely on his baby sister to take care of him.

Dammit. It had been 3 months since he hadtaken temporary leave from the BSAA north america advanced operative training ground, and the new recruits had to make do with lesser instruction. His motivation had always been to provide these kids the best combat training, to improvise, so that they would never succumb to the horrors bio-terrorists use. He wanted them to be prepared. He remembered Claire. He had vowed to train these new recruits, and he was failing his own promise. Damn. He began to feel the nightmares returning. He was in the arctic. More flashbacks, he was facing the abomination, Alexia Ashford. TALOS. The undead, with rotting flesh and a craving for living skin. The rotting breath in his face as a brother in arms tries to kill him. The pills, Chris thought. He stood, already dizzy by the three glasses of whisky,and he found the pills in his nightstand. He took three. Then a fourth. Chris began to feel drowzy. He was falling into the hands of Morpheus. Maybe it was better this way. At least he didnt have to face the memories, Chris thought, as He fell face first onto the hard, wooden floor. He managed to dial Claires number before passing out. ´Chris?are you there?´. Chris closed his eyes. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was better...

´You..I..cant believe your such an idiot!your an inconsiderate dumbass Chris, thats what you are!´. A beautiful tall red haired woman yelled at Chris, her long figure bathed by the afternoon rays of the sun, coming in from the windows in Chris´s small apartment. ´The doctor said if I would have arrived ten minutes later, you would have been dead! whats wrong with you Chris? drinking that stuff and mixing it with pills´. Claire was a beautiful woman, her long legs were covered by tight blue jeans and comfortable looking sneekers. She wore a blue tank top, a little too revealing for Chris´s taste. But he had to remember, she wasnt the same little girl he used to take care of growing up. She was a woman in her own right, who faced the same nightmare he did, and not just on one occasion. ´Claire. I dont expect you forgive me. Im sorry. Its just these godamn things these..memories, they keep coming back. I feel weak Claire.I dont know how Im gonna go on.' Claire looked at her brother, who had now changed into a white T shirt and blue jeans. She had never seen Chris so defeated. It had always been the other way around.

Chris was always the one who protected her, who gave her hope, who showed her that there was a glimmer of light in the darkness that was their lives. But as she looked into his blue eyes, her own filled with tears. She sat down on the couch and hugged him. ´Claire, are you okay?´, asked Chris. ´Yeah Im alright. but Im worried about you´. She did her best to hide her tears. ´Claire Im sorry for bothering you like this. I have no one else to turn to. I dont want anyone from the academy to know my condition, y´know?I dont wanna affect them. They have it hard enough as it is, facing BOWs and training the new guys. I dont want my shitty case of post traumatic stress troubling them. I dont want it troubling you.´ Claire looked into Chris´s eyes. They looked petty and broken. ´Chris. Stop it. Youve been there for me. My whole life. Youve risked your life to help me. I owe everything to you. Im not leaving you and you better believe it. But I have to know, Chris...'. There was the awkward pause.

´Did you mean to do it. was that...your way out?´. Chris saw his sisters eyes get watery as she spoke those words. He didnt even know the right answer. ´No. Of course not. Its the drugs Claire. I cant live with them, but I cant stop these memories without them,' Chris laughed, as he tried to break the tension in the air. Claire was not amused. 'Chris this is serious. You need to know that what happened in Kansas wasnt your fault. You know that right?´. Chris stood up quickly. ´´I dont want to talk about this Claire´. ´Chris please, you have to know it wasnt your ´-´I SAID I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!´, Chris yelled, as he recalled the incident the month previous. Chris´s hands were on his face. ´Dammit Claire, I told you!why the fuck wont you just mind your own business!´. Claire stared at Chris horrified. ´Call me when whatever your on wears off Chris´. She picked up her bag and left Chris´s apartment in a hurry. ´Dammit...dammit..why did...SHIT!´, Chris screamed. The only person who bothered to help him just got verbally abused by him. He regretted saying it as the words escaped his mouth. But now, the memory was fresh, what happened in Kansas was clear in his mind.

He had been sent on a specific mission to rid a farm of BOWs that had been left there by a few mafia members. He was captain of the unit, and his team was ambushed inside the Farm house, by a group of raging hunters. Thats when Chris saw her. She was a little girl, crying as she saw the horrors in front of her, the demon green skin tearing through Chris´s comrades, she cried desperatley for help. Chris ran over to her, and managed to protect her from the onslaught of deadly hunters. He managed to run through the farm house, evading the gunfire and attacking BOWS and escape, reaching a pile of hay behind the sieged structure. His men had managed to get clear of the farm house, but were being massacred by the Hunters. ´Captain, what the hell are you doing!we need your help!NOW!´, screamed Beards, as he turned around and began shooting the remaining group of abominations, as they leapt out the barn windows, letting out their ungodly cry as they prayed upon their next victim. Ross, Perry, Rojas, Thorpe, Upton, all these new recruits were dead because of his negligence.

´Ill be there ASAP Nevence!keep them pinned down, I repeat keep them pinned down!´. Stay hidden in the haystack alright?Ill be back when I kill the monsters´, said Chris smiling at the young girl. Her golden blonde hair and innocent face smiled as Chris hid her in the haystack. Chris returned to his young soldier Beards Nevence, and together with half a dozen members of Chris´s squad, they managed to kill the final number of hunters. ´Shit captain, what the fuck is wrong with you?´, demanded one soldier. ´Our boys are dead Redfield, where the fuck were you?´. ´I-I´, Chris remembered the little girl, and then heard a bonechilling noise. The ruffling of hay. The cry of an ungodly beast. A high pitched scream. Chris turned around and saw, a hunter, standing over the dicapitated young body of the blonde little girl. ´NOO!´. Chris´s squad shot and killed the hunter quickly, but it was already too late. Chris ran over to her body. ´Captain, we...´. Beards saw Chris, as he held the young girls body. Her own blood was splashed all around her face. Her dicapitated head wore a mask of pure, untarnished fear.

Reliving this memory was the most painful. The one that started his crisis. He was tempted to reach for the pills again. Until he heard it. It was his cellphone. He had filtered it so as to only recieve calls from the BSAA. ´Hello, said Chris, trying to straighten himself out´. ´Mr. Redfield. How do you do. My name is Frederick Duvall, Ive heard lot about you'. Chris was caught totally off guard. He knew most high ranking officers in the BSAA, he was a founding member. But he had never heard of Frederick Duvall. ´Mr. Redfield, I have delicate matters to attend to, so I will be brief with you. I would like to speak to you personally, can you come over to the academy, say tomorrow at 6?I will only be in town for a few days, and there is a matter of utmost importance I wish to discuss.´ Chris was perplexed. But at the moment, anything to get his mind out of where it was was good enough for him. ´Sure . Ill see you tomorrow´. ´Thank you Chris. Good day'. Chris didnt know why, but he knew something wasnt right with this Duvall.

Chris stared at the large official looking building in front of him. It was 6:15 in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set. Chris wore a leather jacket, a pair of blue jeans and a pair of dark boots. He dressed casually and informally, and had arrived 15 minutes late to demonstrate to that whatever he wanted from him, he wasnt going to get. He immediatley regretted arriving, when he was greeted by Mary Scott, and her group of bustling young girlfriends. Chris had given mandatory self defence classes to all BSAA recruits, even those who worked desk jobs. Mary had asked Chris out to dinner three times, and frankly, he was just too tired to lecture her on how inappropriate it was. He forced himself inside the building, excusing himself from the group of young girls with haste. As he headed to the 7th floor he was greeted by a large group of his students on the elevator

The questions began. Where was he?why had he been gone for so long?Chris managed to avoid the questions with shallow jokes and shaked them off his case by asking them if they had approved their courses to participate in field operations. Whatever he could do to shut them up, he thought. He reached the seventh floor. Frederick Duvall had phoned him at six AM regarding their meeting. ´Mister Redfield, I will wait for you on the seventh floor, down the corrider in the soundproof conference room. We dont need what I am going to tell you to happen about the ears of a reckless little bsaa recruit do we?´. Before Chris had had a chance to respond, Duvall had hung up the phone. So he was there. Right where Duvall had summoned him. Chris made his way to the conference room and sat down at the round table. The wall facing the sun was pure window, and the view towards the sunset was beautiful. Chris felt drowsy then and there...he had managed to fall asleep at 4am that day, only to be woken up by Duvall. He didnt sleep after that, and spent most of his time reading spare training manuals he had lying around his apartment. The door opened loudly, and a clearly anxious man made his way to the chair beside Chris.

´Thank goodness your still here mr. Redfield. Ive been dealing with a few crisis´, i hope you didnt mind the wait´. Chris nodded. ´Yeah. Just call me Chris. Anyways , lets get down to business. You mind explaining yourself? You wouldnt give me any details over the phone, and Ive never known about your association to the BSAA until now´. ´Chris, I know you have reason to believe Im wasting your time. But let me be honest with you . I need your help. Well, the world needs your help´. ´Well ive been giving the world my undivided attention for a while now . Im sure the BSAA can manage whatever crisis is occuring now.´

Duvall knew he would have to tell him everything. His anxious and lighthearted expression turned stern. ´Redfield, do you want to know why you dont know me, but i do?there is a division within the BSAA so secret, that not even most lead officials are aware of it. Including you. Im no fool, so dont take me for one. Ive been around when things dont get pretty. Im head of the EBCU, the elite bio-terrorism containment unit. Its one of a kind. The best operatives of the BSAA and all worldwide organizations are recruited and trained, creating the most excellent BOW fighting machines. Much like you do in preparing these men and women for fighting and managing BOWs. But my units assignments are so delicate, that they include missions that enter the realm of extorsion, torture, and blackmail. We maintain security for the world and make sure all nations maintain their warfare technology clean and bio weapon free. Sort of like wiki-leaks, but much more hands on´. Chris smiled. This guy knows his stuff.

´Weve been investigating the movement of Tricells equpment and research by a group of mercenaries hired by a high level gangster from eastern Europe. The pipeline went as deep as Vietnam, India, Indonesia, and finally ended up in a factory in the philippines. Of course we raided every single place they were transporting the equipment, but everytime we arrived, we were one step behind in the pipeline. These Leftovers from the Kijuju incident seemed to be tarnished, like the buyers wanted nothing to do with them. We found that very strange. But not as strange as this. As of late, our man inside the CIA, Wayne fortwright over heard a phonecall from head of operations and decided to record it.´ Duvall pulled out a mobile device to play the recording. ´Have your men to use their shell companies to transport the goods into the university. Yes well just claim it was found and confiscated by us in a drug bust. That its useless equipment, whatever. Just make sure it makes it to Europe. And inform the rest of the stations that the phoenix was born. To initiate operations. Shut down all of homeland securitys defense measures in one fell swoop. Ive made sure that Surrounding countires dont poke their nose into our business, and Ive made sure anybody who raised a voice against us was either silenced or payed off. I owe alot of people alot of money now. Make sure this is done my brother, ive fufilled my part´. The tape finished rolling.

´Whats this have to do with me?´, asked Chris. ´Everything my boy, everything´. I conducted my own investigation , and found out some things, things of significant importance, but this, this confirmed my worst fear.´ Chris humored him. ´And what would that be?´. ´These men, the one who sold the weapons, the middle men and arms dealers, all recieved large payments via swiss bank accounts. Border control was full of intelligence officials all around Europe for seven months. Politicians have pushed sensationalist media in the publics eyes, while implementing new laws to make the BSAAs jurisdiction less influential in all parts of the world. My boy. I have discovered who the master of the pipeline is, who has been moving BOWs in and out of Europe, who has been behind recent bio terror attacks in the past year!Its the intelligence agencies. All over the world. Goverment behind goverment behind goverment. All countries are all the same, working towards one common goal´. ´The disolution of the anti BOW warfare treaty. They plan on scaring the citizens of the world so much, that they would embrace this law. Thinking the only way to fight monsters is with more monsters.´ Chris thought of how absurd the whole thing was, how it sounded. It was so ridiculous, it just might be true. ´8 major cities are rigged to blow with a new BOW of nuclear proportions, developed by some new sort of poison. We believed that following the pipeline was all we needed to do to find its origin. And we did. Many of the greatest scholars and academics of scientific theory have been travelling to a castle in Tempes woods, the ex dracul university.

Now it stands as a national monument, until of course it was closed by Hungarian government due to ´sanitary reasons´. We found residue which resembled the physical form of the weapon which these terrorists have threatened us with. Mr. Redfield, whats at stake here is so great you will not believe it. This compound is so powerful, and so horrifyingly effective, that i cannot possibly believe any government would dare to use it´. Life had taught Chris to be cynical. ´How so?trust me mr. Duvall Ive seen it all´. Chris pulled out a cigarette and lit it. ´Im sorry, havent smoked one of these since 96. But with how things have been recently, I had to get one. You were saying?´. ´Imagine something with the power to bring back your deepest fears.´ Chris wasnt impressed. ´A hallucination drug?thats containable, the BSAA prepares for emergencies like that.´Chris laughed. Duvall shook his head and looked at Chris again. His greying hair and premature wrinkles seemed to bring out his bushy eyebrows, into a look of determination. The same one Chris recognized in himself. ´You dont understand. The nature of this BOW is like nothing ive ever seen. It creates the illusion of the nightmare of the victim when inhaled, and as long as the host BOW is in proximity to the infected, the illusion...´. He looked away. ´What?, what?´.

´The illusion becomes tangible. It becomes real. Its already been deployed on a research crew investigating near Tempes woods, theyre deaths were...disgusting.´ For a veteran like Duvall, not much things were disgusting. This must be serious, thought Chris. ´My god, if they release that in the atmosphere...´ 6 Billions peoples worst nightmares will roam the earth, turning it into hell itself. This went beyond anything Chris could possibly fathom. ´Redfield, men like us, we dont frighten easy. But this has me scared shitless. Theres nothing we can do on a tactical level. The terrorists will release the toxin into the atmosphere december 21st 2012. Theyre keeping hostages and maintain the top monuments of major cities under dangerous perimeters until then, If any authority tries anything, it gets released by explosion before hand.´Chris was perplexed. This was a tidal wave of information. and devastating information at that. ´Thats in two days time´. ´Redfield, this is what ive come to ask you. What I need from you. Weve discovered the one mastermind behind all of this, and it cost us Waynes life. Dr. Hans Mikel. He worked for Umbrella back in the 1980´s. He was presumed dead, and by what we confiscated at the spencer manor after your little visit was that he was murdered by one Albert Wesker. Or so the world thought. Out of Weskers frustration for not being able to find and kill Hans, he lied to Spencer and told him the deed was done. Spencer wanted him dead because of the nature of his creation. The same details spencer registered about this toxin are the ones we face now. Its the same toxin. We have reason to believe that Hans Mikel is alive, and began his operations now that Wesker was no longer a threat, and is hiding in Gyerdek Ordog castle as we speak.

We need a captain for a mission that cannot fail. You will have the best men in the world at your disposal, the Elite special forces alpha team of the EBCU. You are the best the world has Chris. We need to get in that castle, find Zimer, and find a way to stop those BOWs as quick as possible. There must be some antidote. But we need to act quickly´. Now Chris understood everything. ´, Ill only ruin our chances of success. Im not well mentally. I cant do it. I cant be responsable for the blood of innocents anymore´. ´Mr. Redfield. I implore you. There is no one else fit for this. No one. And an acquaintance of yours said you wouldnt refuse´. Chris was surprised. ´Who?´, he asked, as he put out his cigarette in an urgent manner. ´An old army buddy of mine. His son is in the EBCU elite team. He told me youd look after him. His name is Barry Burton.´ Barry. He didnt know what his son had gotten himself into. Chris wasnt ready for this. But he owed Barry, and now, knowing what he knew, he couldnt turn it down. It was his fate. There was no running away. Ever since Albert Wesker betrayed him and his friends that night 14 years ago, his life had been defined by this. Chris stood, and put his hand on Duvalls shoulders. ´Alright. keep me updated on the situation, but dont call me until after 10 am tomorrow. I need to sleep.´. Chris left the room. It was now night.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO  
ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE

Tepes university, 21 hours until virus release

Hans Mikel had recently communicated with his loyal subordinate, Niko Ralislof, whom had secured the intended area in New York. Niko was one of his most brilliant creations. Created with the sheer power of the Black water infection, his creation, and a bit of experimentation with Las Plagas, he was able to completely reconstruct this dead man's DNA and have him hold the power of Satan himself. Niko had been a mercenary fighting in the Bosnian wars for most of his youth, and was found by Hans dying on the wet dead lands of some serbian village. Hans had taken him back to Hungary, but the soldier passed away on the trip there. He had promised the man his life back, as he saw him repent on all his war crimes on his deathbed. He begged forgiveness and hoped god would embrace him and save him from the flames of hell. And Dr. Hans had only obeyed his wishes. Months and months of experimentation in the darkness of Gyerdek ordog of prayer, and of incantation of ancient pagan deities, made him reach the inspiration his brilliant scientific mind needed to revive Niko as gods messenger. And it worked. When he lived again, with his newfound abilities and the gift of drawing another breath, he pledged loyalty to Hans, whom he considered a servant of god, and the one who would finally relieve the world of sin.

Hans plan was going along perfectly. The governments of the world were outraged to know that they had a part in what would be their own destruction. After all, it was them who together pushed to rid the international bio warfare treaty, and doing so implied the weakness of BOW control and the jurisdiction of the BSAA world wide. And everything they did managed to cover his own tracks. The world would be engulfed in fear. ´Sir, we have established the plagas infected paramilitary group on the perimeters of the castle. And we've unleashed a small sample of the Black water virus into the air.´ ´Good, that is enough for counter measures. Nobody will be able to enter this castle. Leave me be, for I must pray, ´ said Hans cutting off the radio transmitter he was using to communicate with his followers. Inside his cramped, rotting lab was a small door, which led to a small room. A solitary candle and various carcasses of dead mice surrounded an ancient looking wooden trap door. ´I have come to visit you my child, for you are the key to gods plan. You are my child. The spawn of evil.´ He opened the trap door, and a series of putrid screams and shrieks erupted from the darkness. It was pitch black and it smelled like death. ´You are the key my child, you are the key,´ whispered Mikel as he entered the hole, and closed the trap door above him.

Manhattan, 21 hours before virus release

Niko Ralislof enjoyed the company of his new platoon, rather than his former ones. For one, they were much more quiet and obedient, and secondly, they enjoyed the slaughter just as much as he did. He stood at the doors of the museum of natural history, holding a woman up with one hand by the neck. The police had strict orders from the highest offices of government to not shoot, to try to negotiate terms of that would lead to the safety of other innocent civilians. Lights from helicopters, media groups, police force, SWAT, everyone was focusing on Niko. ´I have already stated what will happen!on the 21st of december, of this year, I will release the virus that will finally bring armageddon to this earth. Nothing will interfere with this, or I will continue to murder civilians!´. ´Put the woman down, please!´, cried the police negotiator throguh the megaphone´. ´I have made an example of 38 people already. 38 wives, or husbands, sons and daughters. But now the world will see that we are serious people.´

The BSAA had also managed to eliminate the regenerators around the museum, but almost the entire militia that had arrived killing innocents entered the museum. ´This woman will be number 39.´ Niko opened his mouth, and out protruded a grotesque red tongue, as thick as a fist, with veins and a yellow puss like liquid dripping from it. ´Oh my god!´, screamed the man on the megaphone. The police began to fire at Niko, but the bullets seemed to not even phase him. The bullets caused Nikos blood to splatter all over the policemen who were at the front of the crowd, and they began to scream. The blood burned through their skin, causing them to fall to the ground with their faces erased, as if burned by a powerful acid. Niko licked the woman's face, with such force, that her neck bones made a horrible crack, and snapped. Her limp body fell down the stairs of the entrance to the museum. her broken neck began to melt as did her face. ´If anyone, dare shoot at me or any of my men again, we will come out and finish the job on the rest of you. Beginning with the women and children out there, who are watching this fun little spectacle´.

Niko entered the museum. His militia of type 3 plaga infected and black water virus prototypes awaited his orders. ´Brothers, let us pray for the souls of the ones we've had to kill. For their sacrifice serves the lord in bringing forth his Armageddon'. The abominations kneeled to the ground, each of them staring blankly at the floor. ´Our prophet Dr. Hans has revealed his place for us in the heavens. God speaks through him. And so does the devil. It is our job to be Satan's warriors my brothers, and I will not fail my master´. Niko was convinced. He would see this through until the last drop of blood oozed from the last human soul.

London, United Kingdom, 20 hours before virus is released

´Alright team, just got this news from Duvall. The operations afoot. Everything we were told last night's true, and operation Black sky is gonna go down. Anyone who wants out should say I right about now'. A rugged man directed himself to a group of people, inside a garage. He wore military boots, jeans, and a tight grey shirt. He had tan skin and had a vertical scar on his left eye, all the way down to his jugular. His name was Evan McCormick. ´Ive been working missions with you fine folk over seas for some time now, but I can tell some of you aren't ready for the nature of this mission. It´s probably the most important mission any BSAA member or organization has ever faced.´ ´You care to name names there tough guy?´. An attractive young black girl stood and looked Evan straight in the eye. She was gorgeous, her sophisticated English accent and dominant posture made her out to have a cavalier attitude. ´I don't need to. Besides, everyone knows I´m not talking about you there Ashley.´

´Beginning squabbles over stupid things like this makes me think the only one here not ready for this is you McCormick´, smirked a man, leaning against the beautiful parked corvette. 'Maybe your right there Kenji', said Evan, smiling back at him. Two men had remained silent through out the entire evening. One wore a large Texan cowboy hat, the other had a shaved head and a cold expression. ´Reckon this ops gonna make us famous. Duvall won't have to hide the branch no more, the BSAA will save face and we´ll win the medal of honor. Well, us Americans anyway´, said the man with the cowboy hat. ´Your right about that. BSAA have been really fucked lately, there's been more Bio terror attacks in the recent months than ever before, we've been cleaning up hellholes like crazy the past few weeks, damn lucky any of us are still alive´, said the bald man, still staring at the ground with a cold gaze. He had a Welsh accent, and baby blue eyes. ´Yeah well it´s going to take a lot more than luck on this op. That's why we've been chosen for this. I still don't know why we couldn't get more soldiers on this mission. If it is so important after all´, said Kenji. He had dark, profound eyes and a stern young complexion only an Asian man could pull off in his forties. His silky black hair was done up in a pony tail, and stood well over 183cm.

´Do you really want some dumb grunts putting this mission in danger Kenji?its been us six on these missions for the past year, and we sure as hell have been efficient´, said Evan, as he took a sip of an energy drink he had found on the table. ´I agree. We've done this shit well enough, we don't need any extra hands on this.´ Marco Estrada sat on a chair and smoked his cigar. He was latino, and was the only surviving member of the EBCU who had been on more than one hundred field operations. His dark hair was pulled back, and he spoke with a hint of accent. ´Your incredibly sexy when your right you know´, said Ashley as she giggled and playfully kissed Marco. ´Get a room you two!this here's where the grown ups talk!´, laughed Tom, the man in the cowboy hat. He was your typical American soldier, save for the moustache. His lucky charm ever since his first op with the EBCU, he always said. ´You're just jealous because you had your chance!´, said Ashley, as she gave a cute smile. 'OOOOOH BURN MAN!´, cheered Evan, as he laughed on. Everyone was now having a good time. They began having to share a few beers, to remember past ops, and just lighten up before the mission. ´Hey! Kenji!'. Evan called out for his comrade after and hour of mingling wit the rest of his team.´What is it?´, said Kenji, as he laughed everyone off when they began wolf whisteling. ´Kenji, I just got this on my IPhone, ´whispered Evan, with a concerned look. He showed him a file photo of Dr. Hans Mikel. ´Him? hes behind all of this?fuck…´ Evan and Kenji remembered all too well.

They both entered the EBCU in the winter of 2007, assigned to a mission in the heart of Americas mid west. A new type of BOW was discovered, and it was their job, alongside the rest of the team to find it and neutralize it. Little did they know what awaited them. They had arrived at a gas station, which was completely torn to pieces. No traces of anyone. Then they saw him. Hans stood there, in the middle of the whole thing, holding a vial of what looked like a black fluid.´ Stop right there! What happened here? who are you?´, demanded Evan, as he aimed the weapon at Mikel. ´Ive just come to collect something. Something that was rightfully mine. But I have it now. Do not worry. Ill just be on my way.´ The sky was grey and a it began pouring rain, as the team still continued to aim at the man. ´Do you think we are screwing around? leave that there and come with us!´, demanded Kenji, keeping his weapon on the man. ´Do not be fools. I said I have what I needed. I will be on my way. Surely you do not want to meet what did this, do you?´. Hans Mikel wore a white labcoat, and large glasses.

He was bald and had grey hair, and he spoke with a menacing voice. ´ You think we're playing here?a new BOW has been killing people out here, and you look like one of those renegade scientists! I'm willing to bet my damn lunch money your responsible for this old man! drop the vial, and get over here with your hands in the air!´, said Marco, infuriated. A roaring of thunder had begun, and the rain intensified. ´You pathetic souls have no idea what you are getting yourselves into´. Hans made a swift motion with his thumb, and a cloud of black smoke cloaked him from the team. ´Shoot that motherfucker!´, cried an EBCU member behind them. Everyone began shooting at the cloud. Then it disappeared. Vanished, as if it was never there. And so was Mikel. Then, they saw it. A behemoth creature ran through the rain and smashed into the whole squad. The huge creature stood at least 4 meters high, and let out a monstrous cry to the heavens. Its teeth rotting, its vacant eyes and muscular form looked like a Tyrant BOW. But it was different. Kenji stared at it horrified. He remembered the vivid images of his father transforming into a zombie a few years back. How he himself had to kill him. The creature standing before him was a gargantuan doppelganger of his infected father. Marco, Evan, and Kenji didn't recall how they got out, while the rest of the team were slaughtered…

´So its this guy again huh? the fear drug asshole´, said Evan quietly, as he gave Kenji a serious look. ´We gotta take him out. This shit took a turn for the worst McCormick. Tell Marco who this guy is and tell the team to get the hell out. We are gonna need some rest´.

As he looked out the window and saw the sunset in the sky, he couldn´t help but admire the simple beauty of the infinite view of nature. He usually missed out on such things, since everytime he had flown aircraft he had always been in the cockpit during an intense situation. But not this time. Chris Redfield was a passenger on a luxurious private jet, sipping a glass of one of his favorite drinks, the old fashioned. He thought of his life. Of his family. Of his responsibility. And his old friends. Chris remembered the last time he saw Barry, the summer of 2008, a good old afternoon of hunting. He had been a sort of mentor for Chris during troubled times, when he still mourned the loss of his partner Jill Valentine. He had advised him to not give up on life, and to get the sons of bitches responsible for it. And to Chris, it had become all bio-terrorists. He had to put a name for his anger to attack, something to focus his hate on. Something that would force his drive into completing something positive.

Chris never really had any close ties with the people around him. A few loves during his high school career, and his close friends at S.T.A.R.S, and of course his sister, were all he had in life. And what ultimately brought his crusade into bio terror in motion, was a betrayal of someone whom he had admired greatly...Since then, he had not trusted anyone, aside from his surviving S.T.A.R.S comrades, and the woman he befriended in Africa, Sheva Alomar. Barry and Chris had continued to communicate with each other via email and Skype, Chris deciding not to enter Barry´s quiet, suburban life. He wanted to keep the danger and the chaos from the outside world, out of Barry´s family life. They had run a few ops in 2004 together, and he knew Barry had to much to lose in this fight. He himself had convinced Barry to retire. Chris had seen enough death to know the true value of life. And so did his ex partner, Jill Valentine.

Chris stayed in Africa for the following year after the Kijuju incident, helping restore balance to the infected regions alongside Sheva Alomar. Together they made sure all the B. released in the area were neutralized. They also made sure that anybody connected to the Kijuju incident, like any of Excella Gionne´s accomplices within the powerful branches of Tricell, were captured, bringing them all to the ICC for justice. He returned home to the United States at the end of the year 2010. There he met Jill again, who had been assessing the BSAA´s exterior policies officer during her time since the Kijuju incident.

´ Can I have another?´, said Chris to the barman, who was already preparing a cocktail for , who was sitting opposite to Chris. ´Of course sir. I can only spare one dash of angostura bitters though, I´m afraid I´m fresh out´, said the barman. He was a thin fellow with a receding hair line and a young look about him. He was an Englishman. ´It´s alright. Just make sure the Bourbon´s plenty´. ´Of course sir´, replied the barman. ´Are those nerves on the legendary Chris Redfield? You´ve been drinking quite alot, you do need your wits about you on this mission you know´. Chris looked at Duvall, a little displeased.

´Mr. Duvall, If you want me having some sort of episode on your plane than by all means, keep the Bourbon. But you accepted my conditions. You knew what state I´m in´. ´Yes but I didn´t know it required you to be drunk. I thought you had a soldiers discipline´. Duvall seemed to be interrogating him. He was reminded of his army drills in the air force when he was young. ´I know what I´m doing, if your implying what I think your implying. Remember Mr. Duvall. You came to me´. Duvall had a regretful expression. ´Pardon me Chris, Its that I´m used to being a little hard on my team. Keeps them in shape. But your a man who knows how to manage himself´. Duvall turned to the Barman. ´Jeremy, get him that drink now´. Chris took a sip of his third old fashioned, and looked out the window again. It was beginning to get dark.

´Never been to this place before´, stated a beautiful brunette, as she adjusted her blue cocktail dress. She had fair, soft looking skin and a beautiful face akin to a model. Her name was Jill Valentine. ´Well, you told me to pick, and my sister said this place bearable.´ Chris Redfield had just returned from Kijuju, and was ready to resume his responsibilities with the BSAA North America. He had not seen Jill since she was a blonde, in late 2009. ´Well, what´s this about?´, said Chris. He wore a dark dress shirt and dark jeans, with a pair of dark brown loafers. ´Chris I´ve made a decision. The BSAA have assigned us on a mission in South America´. Chris wasn´t following. ´Yeah, next week. It´s been rough, but I think a weeks vacation will do wonders for me.´ They were both sitting at the bar of a high end venue in the heart of Mara, a city close to Dallas, Texas. Chris took a large gulp of his blood and sand cocktail, and left it on the bar table.

´Chris...I´m leaving the BSAA. I´m done. I´m retiring. I feel I´ve done enough in this struggle. And I finally feel some closure with Wesker being dead. Its over Chris´. Chris had thought that too, that moment when his nemesis ceased to exist in the blazing stomach of the African volcano. But he later realized, it wasn´t. ´But Jill, are you sure? this isn´t over, there are still bio terrorists at large, just waiting fo the chance to kill innocent people!´. Jill started to look angry. She drank from her own glass of whiskey and looked Chris straight in the eye. ´Yeah, but for how long Chris? It´s never going to end. I´ve done more than enough, and I deserve a break. We´ve been facing the worst B. on the planet so people could be at peace! so when is it our turn? when will we be happy?´, Jill demanded.

´They´re still out there. People who are using Umbrella´s bio weapons, people who are still plotting! Alex Wesker is out there somewhere and...´ ´What? what Chris? Hasn´t been heard from since 2006?hasn´t been seen or even registered for the past five years? Chris, I´m not getting any younger. I want to enjoy my life. Live quietly, away from all this tragedy'. Chris sipped his cocktail again. ´So your leaving, just like that? after all we´ve been through, we swore we would see this through´. ´I did, Chris. I even lost three years of my life for it. And frankly, I don´t see why you aren´t sick of this either´. There was a silence, in which all they heard was the bustling chatter of singles mingling, and loud house music. ´Chris I met someone. His name is Kevin, we met in the office during the time you were in Africa with Sheva´. Chris scoffed. He took another drink of his blood and sand. ´A pencil pusher? I expected more than that Jill´, he smiled.

´Chris, I want to get on with my life. I want to settle down. Have kids. And I see myself doing that with Kevin. He´s a good man´. ´Im speechless Jill, I didn´t know you wanted this. All I can say is congragulations. I know you can take care of yourself. Your the smartest woman I´ve ever met, hell the smartest person I´ve ever met´. Chris raised his glass and finished off his cocktail. Jill kept looking at him, and smiled awkwardly. ´Thats it? good luck? Chris...´ Chris looked at her. ´Chris you retire too. We´ll drop everything. We´ll start over. Let´s put the past behind us, the horrible things that have happened. Chris...I´m willing to give it a shot if you are´. Jill looked at Chris, her hypnotizing beautiful blue eyes stared into his. She got closer. So did he. She closed her eyes. He could count the freckles on her face.

Then he stopped. Chris pulled back. a few moments transpired. Jill´s expression changed. so did Chris´. ´It´s not over. There´s still bio terrorists out there, still alive because of what Wesker and Umbrella did. I´ve said it before. I have a job to do. And I´m gonna see it through.´ Jill, just stared, dumbfounded. ´Chris, I uh...I don´t understand you. I care about you, I really do. And you just, worry me. So much. You say you have to save innocents. But Chris, who´s going to save you?´. ´I can take care of myself Jill´. He had ordered a second blood and sand, and took another drink. Jill finished off her whisky, and adjusted her purse. ´Yeah Chris. I know´. She stood up, and gave Chris a peck on the cheek. Jill Valentine had left the bar. Chris continued to drink. He felt something on his face. A salty tear. Only it wasn´t his.

´Chris, we´ve arrived in London. The limousine is waiting outside the airport, ready to take us to the safehouse, where we´ll meet the team. There we will discuss the details of the mission. They´re a lively bunch Redfield, I suggest you have some coffe, operation Black sky commences the moment you meet the team. We take a chopper over to the royal air force training ground, where they´ve agreed to lend us their military aircraft. Chris, get ready for the most important mission of your career´, said Duval, as he woke Chris up from his slumber. After these words, and remembering the fates of his best friends, Chris realized that this was the most important op of his life. And he wouldn´t fail.

Frederick Duvall seemed to enjoy travelling in style. Chris was escorted to the rundown building in London where he had to meet the EBCU team, in a beautiful, regal limosine. ´A bit pretentious, don´t you think ?´, asked Chris, as he looked outside at the cloudy, rainy weather. ´The private security company I hired seem to think that this was an easy way to explain the need for security and justify the half a dozen cars following us from the airport. This operation is too damn risky to have some extremist catch a whiff of it and blow himself up in hopes of killing you, don´t you think Chris?´, said Mr. Duvall. ´Yeah, guess so´, replied Chris. ´Ah, here we are Chris. The old candybar factory. Don´t ask me why the team meets here, but its inconspicuous enough for you and the team to drive off towards the military base afterwards´. The car stopped in front of an abandoned building. The streets were empty save for some crack addicted youngsters who stared oddly at the armed guards escorting Chris and Duvall inside the building. ´Here we part ways Mr. Redfield. I will give you the rest of your indications via radio. Your team should be through the inside of the building. On the right side there is a garage. Just say hummingbird twice and knock three times. They´re expecting you.´ Chris nodded and headed towards the inside of the building.

*

Chris said the passwords at the garage entrance and knocked the amount of times he was supposed to. After about two minutes of impatient waiting, the door opened. Chris walked inside the garage, and saw a group of people loading their weapons, talking amongst each other, with tense looks in their eyes. A woman had opened the door for him, beautiful, with captivating dark eyes and desirable ebony skin. ´I´m Ashley Norrington. I heard about an hour ago you were coming in to assess the team on this op. So gear up, we´re heading over to the airfield in less the 30 minutes´. The rest of the team looked at Chris and sneered. He was almost ceertain he heard a snort of laughter. How could Duvall tell them with only an hours anticipation? Chris looked around. Everyone was almost set. It was a dark room, the windows on the side of the untidy garage were covered by boxes, and the room was illuminated by a glow of hanging light bulbs. It was damp, and 3 cars were parked, which looked like they hadn´t been used in a while. Chris hesitated a little, then just looked up at the team. ´My name´s Chris Redfield. Now apparently by what Norrington told me, you have no clue as to who I am. Let me introduce myself. I´ll be your captain on this mission. So I need each of you to tell me your names. I´m gonna have to memorize them for this mission, and I rather it be sooner than later´. Ashley looked like she had been slapped in the face. Kenji and Marco who were already geared and loading their weapons, looked downright insulted. ´Redfield. The Redfield thats takin´ pills and takin´ vacations from babysittin´ the new bsaa trainees?Now dont ya be tellin me that your that Redfield´, said Tom, who had walked over to Chris, with a smirk on his face. ´I hope your not, that Redfield. Names Tom. Tom Smith.´He put his hand for a handshake. Chris responded, and was squeezed hard by Toms grip.

´Alright Redfield. My name is Kenji Takahiro, 5 year EBCU veteran and now, former captain of this team. I hope the pill thing is a nasty rumour, I really do´. Kenji´s eyes were fixated on Chris. This man saw him as an enemy. ´My name is Estrada, Marco Estrada. Didnt know there would be a new captain on this mission. I dont like it´. Evan McCormick walked up to Chris. And just smiled. ´This has got to be a joke, right? Duvall have some twisted sense of humour or something?´. Evan was literally in Chris´s face. ´Hey back off Evan´, said a burly bald man who was beside a car behind the rest of the team. Chris hadn´t seen him before. ´Oh what Jacob, you really think Duvall would send a has been to lead this op? the old man is uptight but even he´s not that dumb!´. ´I´m not gonna tolerate insubordination on this mission McCormick, there´s too much at stake, so get the funnies out of your system now, so we can get a move on´. Chris looked him dead in the eye. Chris could tell. This man had seen war, and he could take care of himself. Evan kept staring at him. ´Oh what you want to kiss him now? just back off man, we gotta get going´, said Jacob. ´Yeah J. And of course cap. You should gear up. I wanna see you out there in the field . See what your made of.´

He backed off and headed back towards the table where he was loading and preparing his weapons. The bald man approached Chris, and shook his hand. He was taller than Chris, with stern blue eyes, and a rugged look. ´My names Jacob Burton. I take it you were the former S.T.A.R.S member Duvall told me about´. ´Duvall told you about me?´, asked Chris, perplexed as to why he knew and the others didnt. Then he realized. Burton. ´I rarely talk to my dad. But he told me about you. I know you´ll do fine with the team, we´re not as bad as you´d think. Afterall, we all have to watch each other´s backs on this operation, no sense making bad blood here is there?´. Guess your right´. Chris put on his BSAA gear, his default operations uniform, with green tactical pouches and vest on his torso, and a white shirt folded up to the elbows with the BSAA emblem on the sides. ´Alright Duvall´s just informed me that we gotta be movin out right now to be on schedule, so finish up and move out people, we got a plane to catch!´ exclaimed Chris. He stood beside the exit, making sure everyone left the room equipped. He was deliberatley pushed by Kenji and Evan on their way out. Jacob touched his shoulder. ´It´ll be alright captain, let them have their bitch fits. Were going to need you down there´. Chris smiled. They were on their way out.

LARGE, ISOLATED FOREST IN WALLACHIA, HUNGARY  
16 HOURS UNTIL VIRUS RELEASE

The night was cold and solitary. The vast, green forest spread across the ground like an incessant ocean. The moon was hardly visible through the murky clouds, and the fierce wind seemed to howl aggresivley. Chris Redfield and his team sat inside UK military aircraft, waiting until they would reach the so anticipated destination. ´Tepes university isn´t far now, Captain´. We should be there in around twenty minutes´, said Ashley, as she flew the the air vessel. ´Good. Listen people, the plan was to originally arrive on Dracul road and head via foot to the castle. But I recieved a message from HQ two hours ago that indicated there were too many hostiles set loose in the forest. There are alot of B. around this place, so its safer to drop from the sky and land in a camp established by the local branch of the BSAA. They´ll be waiting for us with weapons. Its not safe to go around this place with just a standard issue handgun. We all drop on the assigned spot. There we´ll head up Vér hill, where we´ll reach the castle´. Chris practically had to yell, since the noise inside the aircraft made it almost impossible to hear. ´We can take the action Redfield, Duvall knows that. It would´ve been easier to just head on foot. You over complicated everything, and that can compromise the operation!´, shouted Kenji, with an outraged look´. ´If you don´t have the balls for this Redfield, you shouldn´t be here!´, yelled McCormick.

´We´re taking the jump. Less risk of casualties, end of story. Now strap up and be ready to go!´, replied Chris, feigning indifference. Chris went to the front of the plane, over to the cockpit. ´How much longer Ashley?´. ´Norrington to you. And we are nearly there. Tell the pilots to come, I have to get ready for the jump´, said Ashley. Chris looked through the windshield. There he could see the quaint but disturbing castle with its sets of dark towers, like black arms reaching for the heavens. Chris headed to the back and told the pilots that were riding along to relieve Ashley from her flying duties. He joined the team once more. ´Alright, you each have flares, in the event any of us stray from where we´re supposed to land. You know the protocol. If you get separated you stay put until the rest of the squad finds you. When we reach the camp, we grab our remaining weapons and head out. Everyone clear?´. Nobody answered. ´Yes Captain sir.´ Jacob replied, causing the rest of the team to nod in agreement. Jacob gave Chris a nod of approval. ´Five minutes people!´. Chris saw what was probably the BSAA camp. There was fire and what he made out to be vehicles. Chris was nervous. His team wasn´t loyal to him, but only to each other, which meant he would have to be extra cautious when out there in the dark and unforgiving abyss that was the forest.

They spoke with each other. A way to calm their nerves of this impending dangerous operation. The fate of the world was in their hands. Chris saw distrust towards him in the eyes of some, admiration by one, others with loathing, but one had a deep and dark ambition in his eyes. They were cold. A trait Chris recognized all too well. He would have to win the trust of these people. It was the only way they were gonna stay alive. The only way they would head back to their families. because if there was something that Chris valued, it was life. And how much of it is lost in vain?. This team had to work with him. Because if they didn´t it would be the end of them all. He just looked at them. Tom saw Chris and noticed his vacant expression. ´You alright there Cap? not gonna get sick on us there, are ya?´. He laughed. And so did the team. It didn´t matter. Because now there was no time to care about such trivialities. They had reached the assigned jumping point. It was now or never. What Chris was there to do. ´Showtime´.

CHAPTER 3

IN THE DARKNESS LIES YOUR FEAR...

´Cmon go, go, go!', shouted Chris. ´Remember head to the camp, we don´t move until everybody is at the rendevouz point! remember people we´re on a tight schedule!´. First, Evan and Kenji took the leap. Then, Tom and Marco. Finally, Ashley and Jacob. ´Alright! tell HQ We´ve been deployed!´, yelled Chris, over the loud and icey wind. The pilots confirmed with a thumbs up, and Chris and braced himself, and took the leap. The wind was cold and felt like it was cutting his face, the forest below was menacing and broguht memories from past missions. Especially that mission... Chris was in the forest in Racoon city. He was searching with the S.T.A.R.S alpha team, for clues on the whereabuts of the missing Bravo team. Then he saw it. His comrade, Joseph...being eaten by those things...

Chris was falling hard and fast. He heard screams via the radio. He was going to die. He hadn´t deployed his shoot. And the sky seemed corrupted, with what looked like black smoke moving around, almost like a large, deadly swarm of flies. ´FUCK!´. He deployed his shoot but he was too close to the ground. Chris closed his eyes and prayed for the best. Tree branches ruffled and cracked violently. All Chris saw was darkness. And all he felt was pain. He used all the will power he could to open his eyes. They barely did. Chris was apparently in the branches of a large ancient tree. It had saved his life. He couldn´t believe he had passed out during the jump. Chris was stuck, tangled in between the branches of the tree by his parachute. He felt weak. He was bruised all over. His eyes were heavy again. He made out a dark cloud of smoke approaching him as he dangled restlessly on the tree. He felt drowsy. He couldn´t see anymore. All he heard were screams on his radio...

Enter the survival horror...

UNIDENTIFIED AREA OF THE WALLACHIAN FOREST  
13 HOURS UNTIL VIRUS RELEASE.

Chris Redfield was in pain. His parachute must´ve not taken the strain and pressure of the old trees branches and given out. Chris analyzed his wounds. Minor cuts and bruises on his body, and a large, bloody gash on his forehead. This must´ve happened as he fell. But how long had he been unconscious? his watch had broken on the fall. The weather and the position of the stars and the moon seemed the same. No change whatsoever. But Chris had no idea how this could be. He had honed his survival skills to seek out the most intricate detail, and these things generally never evaded him. There was always someway to tell. But now there wasn´t. Perhaps it was his head, he did hurt it. Then he recalled. That black smoke... It wasn´t in the sky when we jumped. How was it there when he was falling? and where did it go? these seemed like strange details, but in the moment they didn´t matter. Chris needed to know if his team was okay. He needed to find the rendevouz point as soon as possible. He checked his gear. All he had was the old radio, and a lighter. Even his combat knife must´ve gotten stuck in the trees. A forest full of B. and he was disarmed. It wasn´t exactly reassuring, knowing he was bleeding and weakened. The forest looked grim and eerily vacant. Like not a thing was alive. No movement, save for the trees bothered to dance by the wind. And a black, sombre dancing at that.

There were no paths, no tracks made by an animal that may lead to some sort of river. Chris walked on. He heard the howling of the wind, and the crunch of his boots as they made his very cautious steps forward sound in the night. Even Chris´s flashlight was broken, he had to rely on the little flame of his lighter. The castle was to the south, and according to his instinct, so was the camp. Chris pressed on, and pulled out his radio. ´Hello, this is captain Redfield, report your status alpha team, I repeat, report your status´. Silence, save for the noise effect on the radio. The wind seemed to howl in mockery, as if some sinister being was watching and laughing at Chris´s Predicament. This frustrated him. He had been so careful. How did this happen?. Then Chris saw it. Smoke. Smoke in the distance. It was different than the one he had seen before. This smoke came from a small fire. It must be the BSAA camp. Well at least there´s something to focus my energies on, he thought. It was about an hour walk from where he was, more or less. He made his way through the tall trees, as they casted shadows over anything that was below them. The moon found no place or solace in the forest, as it was denied entrance by the leaves and branches of the rooted giants.

Chris felt something inside him he knew all too well. A feeling of isolation, a feeling of desperate panic, locked into one drowning sentiment of falling down a large chasm. His senses heightened. The forest was silent, almost serene, if only it weren´t for the cold winds and heavy tension in the air. As he hiked in between trees, Chris came upon an area where the moonlight seemed to have taken refuge. It was a round area where there were no trees, just a small pond, amd dead trunks of what were once all, proud trees. Chris needed to wash his wounds. As he approached the water, his radio let out a bonechilling, bloodcurling shriek. Chris was startled, but he immediatley reacted. ´ Hello? hello? is anybody there? this is Captain Redfield! please, tell me your current position! are you wih another team member? whats goin on!´. Chris just continued to hear shrieking. Just endless screams. whoever was on the other line was in pain, was suffering a great amount. It sounded like a woman. ´Ashley! is that you? I repeat ashley, do you copy?´. The radio went silent. Chris didn´t know what to think. He waited for a repy. Nothing. Chris stood there in the blank oasis of moonlight, just fixated on his radio. But nothing. He quickly headed over to the pond and washed his wounds. The water seemed to sooth his aching scratches, along with the medicinal green herb he rubbed on them.

He finished treating his most serious ones, especially the gush on the head, and he stood, now fearing the fate of Ashley. He was leaving the pond when suddendley,the radio activated again. ´Hello, this is Chris Redfield, is anybody out here? have you reached the rendevouz point?´. The noise got louder. Then, a voice started speaking through the noise, quietly. Chris pressed the radio to his ear. He held it with a tight grip. ´Hello?´, he asked. He heard something. Distorted mumbling. Then it got louder. But so did the noise. ´ Nemo pulsatus fontis of sanctus animus. ego intueor thee quod sentence vos ut condemnatium´. Chris heard loud sobbing. The distorted voice began cackling. It got louder. And louder. ´AHH!´, yelled Chris, as the noise of the radio seemed to explode his eardrum. He threw the radio on the ground, and after five seconds, it short circuited and ceased to function. Chris looked at the small remains of the radio. His heart was pounding rapidly. He felt cold sweat on his face. ´I have to find the team´, he said outloud, as he walked out of the seemingly peaceful area. This forest was stranded, foreign to him in an inexplicable way. As he left the area, his uncertainty and fear got the best of him. He did not look back.

Chris didn´t like the cold. The night had become misty, and the dark clouds shrouded the once visible moon. He was still aching from his wounds, and had successfully walked about twenty minutes towards the smoke until realizing how much darker the forest had become. The visibility was lower and he still had no weapons and no official word from the team. Chris had to stop. It was dark and he had grown tired from hiking through the vast and unforgiving forest. He looked up. All was silent in the forest. The once defiant breeze had ceased. Chris saw ruffling in a nearby tree branch. It rapidly moved to another. Chris braced himself. Perhaps it was a BOW, or a trap set up by Hans Mikel. God knows his twisted mind could release even more things around this castle, he thought. Chris leaned against a nearby tree branch and stopped. He did not breath. He peeked over his shoulder. And there stood gazing, perched upon a small rock, a bird. A dark crow by the looks of it. The mist made the animal even harder to recognize, Chris mistaking it for a small mammal at first. But the silence was what had Chris unsettled. He was confident in his hand to hand combat abilities, even whilst injured, but, Why was the forest silent? the air felt heavy, butat the same time, it didn´t. Something was wrong.

Chris peeked from behind the tree and contemplated the small beast again. It stood still. It stared at Chris and would not move. He moved forward out from behind his cover. ´Shoo!´, he said silently, as he threw his arms up in a threatening gesture. There was no reaction from the bird. It still stood perched upon the small rock. Just leering at him. The patient but menacing creature seemed to analyze Chris, not taking its dark eyes of him. Chris just looked back. Its eyes seemed to change. Dark, then gold, then dark again. Then...white. Chris Redfield looked to the sky and saw that the moon slightly peered over the clouds. Perhaps this shifted the bird´s eye colour? He didn´t want to find out. He needed to move towards the camp and fast. He moved in the opposite direction of the bird and continued his journey. He walked and walked, passing towers of dark thick trees, tripping and hurting himself various times. The light he had to guide him was minimal after all.

Then he came to a shocking realization. Chris had spent another 20 minutes hiking through the forest, only to gaze upon a rock, a rock so familiar to him it made him curse his luck. The same rock where a bird was once perched. he had wasted time and energy, and the warm flame of his precious lighter for nothing. It was a dead end. Then Chris noticed something. Behind a large tree, close to where the familiar rock was, laid a bunch of clothes. Chris got closer and examined them. Among the items were a lab coat, a jacket, trousers, and a bra. They were dirty and torn beyond repair, except for the coat. But no signs of blood. No traces of tangible evidence that would suggest that whoever wore the clothing, was killed. He examined everything closer. Inside the labcoats main pocket was a notebook. It was crumpled and humid, but was still legible. Who had left this behind? Chris could hardly see anything in the darkness. He turned on his lighter and began to read.

_November 3rd, 2012_

We´ve been sent by a group of foreign businessmen to conduct a search in this forest. Me, Roger Maple, Kathleen, and Simon have been analyzing animal droppings and the soil here for weeks now. No one will tell me or any of us why. The apparent owner of the company just told us to shut up and do our jobs. He wrote us a big check so fine by me. We´ve come across some strange things, like a raise in the number of predators in the wildlife of this area. But I´m no hippie wildlife nut! I´m a real scientist, I study genetics! Well money talks, and the money these strange men are paying me is more than enough to fund my own investigations.

_November 7th, 2012_

Kathleen has told me on numerous occasions she doesn´t want to work at night anymore. Me and Simon just laugh. I mean, she´s a scientist and she´s afraid of the dark? please. But it has gotten a little strange around here. The men guarding us are all wearing gas masks and have fully automatic weapons, like they´re expecting something. And they make us work hours more then they did a few days ago. Still, I´m not complaining. I´m cashing my check and getting out of this hellhole at the end of this!

_November 8th, 2012_

We´ve discovered something. Strange chemicals in the air have been killing the forest´s plantlife, while the increase in predator´s in this place has killed off most of the small mamals that made their homes here. Have to wait for the lab results on the soil. Things have gotten more...tense. I´ve been the only one who has kept quiet in front of the guards, Simon got himself beaten by the brutes for demanding more hours of sleep. And Kathleen has been strange as of late, she doesn´t talk to us anymore. She just works. Oh well. At least she stopped whining.

_November 11th, 2012_

This is too much. We can only sleep for four hours and they feed us only twice a day. I tried to quit but I was beaten up by the captain of the squad. And Kathleen had a panic attack. Something about some bird, and how it wouldn´t stop chasing her. Crazy bitch. And Simon disappeared. I think he became too much of a niussance to the guards. Maybe they fired him. Something tells me they didn´t fire him at all though...

_November 13th, 2012_

We´ve made no other breakthroughs. I´ve tried coming up with new hypothesis´, just to keep them happy, but they just threw my research in my face. I´m begining to think we aren´t employees anymore, but prisoner´s. I want to get out of here soon. I feel like I´m being followed and watched. I drank a bit of water in a pond a while ago, and I keep hearing voices in my head. Maybe it had some sort of drug? and the bird, it won´t stop chasing me. I don´t want to end like Kathleen. The rest of the guards wouldn´t tell me anything, all I know is that she, alongside two guards disappeared last night while running some tests near the river. All I want is my money. This forest is giving me the creeps.

_November 15th, 2012_

God I didn´t know. Please, if my family ever finds this, I hope they know how much their daddy loved them. He did this for them. Here, in my last moments, I pray to the god I rejected all those years ago. Hell exists and it won´t stop tormenting me. I feel pain inside, I just want to end it. There´s some rocks near these trees. I will take the coward´s way out. Forgive me family, forgive me god, I´m finishing this. (there are stains of tears and blood. The entry ends abrubtley. There is something else in here...).

Chris found a small flashlight in the trenchcoat. He turned it on and began to ponder. So they were conducting experiments in these woods. But why? and who sent the researchers? all Chris knew was that something killed them, and apparently, the armed guards that were securing them as well. He stood up. He still couldn´t comprehend why he had ended up back at the same place. And he also noticed something else. The smoke he had been following in the distance was gone. But how? and how would he find the rest of the team? Chris continued to move, not stopping and moving quicker through the woods, due to the new visibility the flash light gave him. He had been counting the minutes, making sure he knew how much time had passed since the time he had awoken to the current moment. The moon was completely covered once more, and the mist seemed to intensify. Then he saw it. Atop a branch in a nearby tree, stood the bird, staring once more. Chris kept going. He couldn´t afford to waste time. He moved forward, advancing five more minutes through the dark forest, and stopped once more.

There it was, again, perched, just staring. He hadn´t even seen it move. Then, it happened again. The wind stopped blowing. Everything was silent. And Chris stood there, thinking of the best way to scare away the bird quietly while not making unnecessary noise. The bird opened its mouth. ´AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!´, the bird suddendly let out horrific human screams bringing Chris to the ground in pain. The abhorrent screams continued. Chris now heard macabre laughing. louder and louder. The unnerving noises disturbed him deeply, and flashes of the decapitated girl he failed to save flashed through his mind. He saw her. Dead on the ground, her head beside her lifeless body. Chris looked iinto her eyes. She looked back ´YOU DIDN´T SAVE ME FAILURE´, the dead face laughed at him, in a deep, disturbing masculine voice. Chris yelled once more. He stood up and rapidly ran from the bird. But there was nothing there. Chris was just a man alone, in a dark forest.

_Deep in the bowels of Tepes University_

The sarcophagul chamber was dim. The torches burned with a fierce flame, but gave a light that shed not the familiar warmth of safety, but a deep disturbing eeriness. The ancient room was tense with an air of uneasiness. It felt like death. A man was kneeling on the floor, praying to an old catholic statue. It depicted Saint Michael, slaying a demon, his majestic and regal face with an air of cold determination. The man knelt and mumbled his prayers. He sobbed. The man was Hans Mikel. Deep in the bowels of Gyerdek Ordog Castle, was his private ritual chamber. He sought solitude and guidance in times of despair, in times of uncertainty. For he knew that his mission was a sinister one, and the weight on his soul was sometimes too much for him to bear.

´Saint Michael, warrior of the heavens, give me the strength to carry out my objective for the heavenly father. It has taken me years, but I am at the doors of success. But I fear what will become of me if this all proved to be false. Has the devil been leading me, and not god?´. He spoke to the figure of the deity, the flames casting a disturbing light on the statue, giving saint michael an unforgiving expression. Hans Mikel continued to sob. He remembered his old life. When things were simple. Before he had entered the employment of that evil man, and his company, Umbrella in the 1980´s. He was but a simple man, who saw in the lord his inspiration to seek the truths that god had left behind for man to discover. He had always been told by his mother, and his wife, that he had a blessed and brilliant mind, a holy man who looked to the heavens to help resolve the world´s problems, through the truth of science. This had driven him to continue his work into biology and neuro-science.

Hans remembered the face of his wife Janine, the american born scientist he had met while studying at University in the United States. She was beautiful to him in every way somebody could be. She loved him, she had a brilliant intellect and her love of truth through scientific method rivalled his own. And when they wed, he remembered her breathtaking blonde hair, her fair face, as she wore her stunning white wedding dress. But these were all distant memories, forgotten by time and by god. The heavenly father had different plans for Hans Mikel. After the birth of his first son, Jeremiah, his life entered a period he referred to, as his new birth. He remembered it with detail, as his knees tasted the cold and solitary stone of the deep dungeon. He was inducted into the Tutela verum quod deus, a masonry founded in the United Kingdom back in 1803. There, he was exposed to many beliefs and scientific endeavors he thought impossible. Endeavors he thought dangerous. Nevertheless, the men who lead this masonry had great power within the the governments of Europe, including many businesses. These men saw in young Hans a visionary, a man who held the love of truth and science and family beyond anything, an example of uncorruptable strength, and the vision of bringing divine justice to the world.

Little by little, the old beliefs of Hans once unquestionable faith and love began to crumble, as he became aware of religious artifacts and historical truthsthat shattered his old perspective of life. It was there when he began to ascend within the order, until reaching the title of grand master . At this point in his life, Hans had become a cynical and distant man, tormented with the many truths these men had held secret from the world. Including research with biological compounds found within sacred regions around the globe. God led him, and guided him as the unprecedented spiritual leader of the world´s elite, substituting the pope for many men of diverse hidden masonries around the world. He was respected and admired by men of power such as presidents, bankers, sheiks, and prominent members of churches all around the world. But an unprecedented evil threatened his vision and that of his order. A sinister man by the name of Ozwell Spencer, which whom had been rejected and stripped of his membership due to his interest of meddling with biological components that were safeguarded by higher members of the order, for his own personal gain.

He had been removed from the order when Hans had just joined, thus Spencer knew nothing of the powerful mason. The Umbrella Corporation had began development of Bio Organic Weapons, blasphemy in the face of god, and disrespect to the order and peace that the Tutela Verum quod deus had protected for centuries. Hans Mikel joined the Umbrella corporation, and due to his vast knowledge and assessment to the companies´ growth in the development of early B.O.W lifeforms (to gain the trust of the heads of the corporation) he gained a powerful place at Umbrella having access to confidential information.

Hans sobbed, for here it was where his mind lingered and doubted his path. It was here where he did not know if he had forsaken god, or he had embraced his destiny. It was at the height of Mikel´s power inside the Umbrella Corporation, that he had created that he would refer to as the bane of mortality. Hans had began to experiment using the ancient biological compounds held sacred by the order, and upon further investigation and failed attempts, he had perfected a compound so powerful, and so sinister in its nature, that he himself grew horrified of it. And his downfall came when Spencer had discovered the nature of his creation. The unstable B.O.W leaked in an umbrella laboratory, causing the fears of every researcher in the facility manifastate themselves in tangible form. A demonic, horned creature became the vivid manifestation of Hans´ deepest fear, and the creature killed every staff member and destroyed the Umbrella facility. It was found two months later, dead on an island in south pacific Asia.

A whole village was found slaughtered, skinned, and decapitated alongside it. It was here when Spencer sought to destroy the compound, and sent his skilled killer and trusted lackey, Albert Wesker to dispose of Mikel. Hans, having the resources and connections to disappear, was never found by Wesker. Frustrated, Wesker had reported to Spencer that Mikel was dead and his research would never reappear. The order only hid him for a time, since after they realized that he had sacriliged the order´s findings to create the evil virus, he was cast out and was left to fend for himself. All he had was god, and the mission the heavenly father had chosen him for. And the day he sacrificed his family for his mission, he knew there was no turning back. For the lord spoke to him, and in a frenzy he slit his family´s throats. his son was fourteen years old. The prolonged exposure to his creation had corrupted his logical mind, and he did not seek truth through science anymore, he saw the world as decaying and corrupt, a dying pool of sin and blasphemy.

Hans Mikel continued to cry. He looked into the judgemental eyes of Saint Michael. Then he heard it. A gurgling sound, accompanied by grunting. The grunting of a lamenting woman. A woman who had once loved him, and could now not even recognize him, through his ravaged, virus addled exterior. A fair eyed, blonde teenage boy stood beside her, choking on his own blood. He had tears in his eyes. Mikel looked at them. ´Forgive me...´ They stood there, his wife now crying. Tears and blood covered them, and their pitiful sight was enough to break Hans. He did not want this. He slayed his offspring. That which was pure died the day these two disturbing figures had ceased to exist. He was now a vessel. A vessel of god, and he would have to resist the pain, the temptations. He could not be weak. Hans Mikel could not bear to witness their figures any longer. He prayed in Latin, and begged the heavenly father to give him strength to continue his inhumane endeavor. The pain and suffering stirring inside the halls and chambers of Tepes University were enough to break any man. But Hans Mikel had to be more than a man. His holy mission was to suffer, bring the pain and despair he had created and spread it upon this world, later to burn in hell for his crimes against the lord. He would be the ultimate sacrifice. He did the lord´s work, but he would not see its fruits. His was a broken soul, a dead soul. And as he regained composure and finished his prayers, he posed a question to himself. Something that made his eyes tearful once more. He looked at his dead wife and child, the same creatures that haunted him since their death, for very waking moment. If I am to burn in hell, and my soul is broken and corrupted, what is this pain I feel, oh lord? what is it?


End file.
